


Fear and Freedom

by embolalia



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Caprica (TV)
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embolalia/pseuds/embolalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> After Dreilide leaves, the Temple sends Kara and Socrata to Gemenon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear and Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> This may make more sense if you've seen Caprica, but you don't really need to have!

Kara glares at the ground. She’s tired, her mother’s fingers are tight on her wrist, and Galina Spencer is already crying.

Socrata was up last night, ranting to herself as she packed, until nearly three in the morning. Kara tried to sleep, but the walls in their apartment are thin and her mother’s words were clipped and clear two rooms away. _Those people think they’re better than we are...frakking Dreilide’s fault for leaving...going for the Gods, not the frakking temple._

When Sister Frances pulled Kara out of math last week to tell her her family had gotten a scholarship to join the pilgrimage to Gemenon, to see the holy land, it had sounded like a good thing. Kara clenches her hands, remembering her excitement. It was her mother who knew what it meant.

A door opens somewhere ahead and the crowd of families starts to move forward into the shuttle. Galina lets out a wail and her mother kneels down to comfort her. Kara looks at both of them skeptically.

Mrs. Spencer glances up and catches sight of Kara’s wary look. She frowns sympathetically. “It’s okay to be afraid, baby,” she tells Kara, “you don’t have to look out the windows if you don’t want to!”

Kara doesn’t answer. She knows what pity looks like. She feels her mother’s grip on her tighten, feels the explosion coming. “Oh, I’m not scared,” Kara says quickly, tilting out her chin defiantly. Out of the corner of her eye she sees her mother smile as Mrs. Spencer frowns.

“You don’t need to worry about my Kara,” Socrata says sharply. “She’s brave.” She tugs Kara toward the shuttle. For just a moment Kara’s happy.

As they head to the back, to their pair of seats, Philip Marro darts out his foot to make Kara stumble. She sticks out her tongue and crosses her eyes. She wishes Karl’s family had come. Everybody likes Karl, even if he doesn’t have money either. Not that she blames them. He’s nicer than she is.

Socrata points to the window seat and Kara takes it with a twinge of anticipation. She’s brave, she tells herself, and wishes for one sharp moment that her dad were here to hold her hand. Socrata leans over and jerks the straps of her harness tight. Kara bites her lip. She’ll be brave.

A few minutes later, the lighted signs flicker overhead and the engines start to rumble. Galina is still crying up front, and other kids are whimpering, too--even some of the grown-ups look nervous. Kara clenches her fists in her lap and keeps her eyes open, staring out the window.

They take off with a burst of sound from the engines, and in a moment Kara forgets to be afraid, or brave either, because it’s the best thing she’s ever seen. They rocket through the atmosphere and out into the stars. Kara’s transfixed. “Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer,” she whispers, the words tumbling out in awe and wonder, and then has no idea what she wants to say.

 

  
*

  
The sight of Gemenon growing from a marble into a world is so breathtaking it keeps Kara quiet as they land and disembark and follow the rest of the group from their temple onto a bus that will take them the to the Temple. Again she’s seated with her mother, and she takes in the details of the city as they head out of it, into the dull gray mountains that cover most of the planet.

“We’re delighted to have you join us, to experience as a group the wonder of the holy land,” Brother John is saying at the front of the bus, waving his hands with religious fervor as the other parents nod intently. Even Socrata’s eyes are bright with faith. “And that you have brought your young children with you - not many parents take their responsibility to own and guard and guide young minds so seriously.”

Kara stares out at the clouds, only half listening.

“That was once the land of the evil monads,” Brother John’s voice booms over her shoulder. She turns quickly as Socrata glares at her for drawing attention. “In the old days, before the war, they used the first Cylons to try to control all the sects of Gemenon. There are still relics out that way. They’re nothing to be scared of now, of course. Just broken old machines.”

“Nothing to be scared of?” Socrata snaps.

Kara’s eyes leap to her mother, caught off guard at the burst of anger.

“Let me tell you, Brother,” she says with a steely gaze, “when you see one of those soulless things coming at you, its hands weapons that want to slash and shoot you and everyone you know to pieces, your blood crawls cold in your veins at the sight of such wickedness. Only faith in the Gods can overcome your fear. If you had ever fought one you’d know better than to use them to tease the tourists.” Socrata spits out the last word, glaring in fury at the priest, at the others in the van. Everyone is silent. Kara is mesmerized.

“Well, you don’t have to tell me, I’ve heard all the stories about the STO,” Brother John says smoothly, turning a broad grin on the others and not looking back at Socrata. “We’re nearly there! On the right, here, you’ll see the ancient guard towers...”

Socrata turns to find Kara still staring. “What are you looking at?” she growls.

Kara drops her eyes to her knees. She didn’t think there was anything her mother was afraid of.

 

  
*

  
They’re shown to the guest quarters when they arrive, small but luxurious rooms. Kara grins when she sees the space she and her mother have been assigned; it’s nicer than anywhere they’ve ever lived. She hides her smile quickly, though - Socrata is still tense and angry, and in the six months since Dreilide left, Kara’s learned all too well what that can mean.

Once they’ve settled in, the adults are led off to meet the religious leadership, and the children are herded into a chapel and left to practice their obeisances.

Philip raises his eyebrows as Kara follows them in. “What the Gods is wrong with your mom?” he asks under his breath.

“Frak you!” Kara hisses, and all the other children turn, scandalized by her language. “She fought the Cylons while your parents stayed safe at home.”

Galina smiles her perfect smile. “My mother is a lady. She takes care of her family.” The words are polite, but the smirk at the end, the challenge in her eyes, say Galina’s heard all the gossip about Kara’s dad.

Kara’s hands clench into fists. They’re winning and they know it. “You were a total cry-baby at the launch,” she taunts. “I bet you’d pee your pants at the sight of a real Cylon.” Philip looks nervous for just a moment and Kara presses on. “They’re right over that ridge, you know. Don’t you want to see what the war was all about?”

Galina glances at Philip. “They’re just broken machines. If you think they’re so special, _you_ go.” She looks past Kara at the Sister who’s watching the group of children without paying any attention. “Ask to go to the bathroom. I dare you.”

Kara swallows hard, then tilts out her chin. “Okay,” she says confidently. “I will.” She feels their eyes on her as she heads toward the Sister.

“Bring something back,” Philip calls after her. “Proof.”

Kara doesn’t turn, but her heart is pounding. She’s so gonna get it her mother finds out.

 

  
__*_ _

  
She slips down the corridor, past the bathroom and out one of the side doors. She can see where the van got parked, so she knows which way to go. Kara crouches low as she climbs the first hill, getting out of easy sight from the compound. A few yards further, she stands, scrambling over boulders and down the narrow paths carved by animals or penitents.

Kara knows what her dad would say: not to listen to them, that she’s special on her own, that she’s his daughter and he loves her. She trips over a root and scrapes her knee. For a moment angry tears spring to her eyes. It was always a lie.

 

  
***

  
She’s been walking for more than an hour when she reaches the last ridge, and can see the remains of an old camp beneath her. Laying in the sandy soil are long, rusted limbs. Cylons. Kara fights the urge to turn and run back. She remembers the fear in her mom’s voice, the nervous tension in her body whenever she talks about the war.

She’ll have to be brave.

Kara eases down the slope, struggling to find purchase on the packed, dusty soil. A dozen feet from level ground, she slips and tumbles down with a shriek she can’t hold back. She rolls a few times, then tumbles to a halt, her foot clanging against something metal.

Kara squeezes her eyes shut, jerking her foot back. For a long moment, she waits, holding her breath. Nothing happens. Slowly she opens her eyes, stares at the long bundle of rods and cords, protected by a shin made of metal. It’s dead, she tells herself, peering closer as she finally starts to breathe. She takes in the rest of it: a triangular chest, a compact head with some kind of visor.

As her gaze reaches its face, a red light suddenly flares on, and the head turns sharply, metal squealing on metal, to stare back at her.

Kara screams, scuttling backwards a few feet.

“Stop!” a woman’s voice cuts across the clearing.

Kara looks up at her, panting wildly, terrified.

“It’s not going to hurt you,” the woman says sternly. “All its joints were destroyed years ago.”

Her eyes flicker back to the Cylon and Kara can see that it’s true: the shoulders and elbows and knees have been blasted, the cords snapped.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” the woman asks sharply.

Kara’s eyes go wide. “Are you going to call the temple?” she asks fearfully.

The woman snorts, shakes her head. “No.”

Kara looks back over her shoulder, up the slope. “I’m Kara,” she says quickly. “I just wanted to see--They dared me. The other kids. Philip and Galina.”

The woman nods, a hint of a smile on her lips. Kara studies her carefully: she’s about her mom’s age, and she’s holding herself perfectly straight the way Socrata does, eyes flickering away from Kara periodically to monitor the rest of the valley they’re in.

Kara brushes off her pants and stands up. “Did you fight in the war?” she asks.

The woman looks at her, startled.

“My mom was in the war. She fought the Cylons on Medra.” Kara looks down at the red light on the Cylon’s faceplate. Something about its blown out joints makes her shiver.

“What do you think of it?”

Kara looks up. “My mother says Cylons are evil.”

The woman nods, staring down at the body. For a moment she looks sad. “I got to meet the very first one. And you know? She was a little girl.”

Kara shakes her head. “But they’re weapons.”

The woman doesn’t seem to hear her. “She just wanted to live, to be free. But her father wouldn’t let her.”

“Did he hit her?” Kara asks quickly.

For a moment the woman’s eyes look off at the horizon. “She was metal. But he kept her from making choices.”

The Cylon’s eye goes dark. Kara watches it uncertainly. “Is that her?”

The woman’s face hardens, her lips pressed tightly together. “No,” she says after a moment. “She left with the others, after the war. These just...they keep me company.”

“My mother says they’re soulless things,” Kara answers, dropping to her knees again in the dust.

“She believed in God. She believed she was alive. That one did, too.”

“Can I touch it?” Kara waits for the woman to nod, then reaches out for the Cylon’s arm. She’s afraid, so afraid for a moment, but she does it. The eye blinks back on, holds her gaze. “Lords of Kobol,” Kara whispers. It’s cool to the touch, and a gear twitches under her fingers.

The woman sighs above her. “They’re not evil,” she says tightly. “And they’re not soulless. Humans believe they can own other living things, but you can’t. They’ll rise up against you and demand their own lives and the only thing evil is trying to stop them. We all want to be free.”

Kara strokes the metal skin. After a minute she stands up. “I’m supposed to bring something back. Proof.” She glances around furtively: there are a handful of other broken-down Cylons in the dirt.

“Here.” The woman bends and lifts a metal fingertip from the sand.

Kara holds it in her palm, wondering whose it was, whether that Cylon was the little girl. “May the Lords watch over you,” she says frankly, as she’s been taught.

“Your parents are Geminese?” the woman asks carefully, her eyes judging.

She freezes for a moment. “My mom. But yeah.”

There’s something like pity in the woman’s eyes. “Don’t forget, Kara--they lost. You can’t own somebody else.”

Kara looks up at her nervously. It’s like she can see everything. “I have to go,” she says quickly. “You won’t tell--”

“As long as you don’t tell on me.” For the first time, the woman smiles, genuinely, wistfully.

“Bye.” Kara smiles briefly, then shoves the finger in her pocket and darts back up the slope, finding better traction this way since she can see where the woman has made a path. As she reaches the top, she hears a voice floating up from the valley and stops to listen.

_God has a plan for her._

It’s not the woman she spoke to, and Kara looks back. There’s no one else there, but she hears the woman speak, answering.

_Poor kid._

 

  
***

  
The journey back seems to go faster, which is good because it’s starting to get dark out. When Kara reaches the top of the last hill, she sees the others out playing tag in the dust and runs down to join them with a shriek.

“You’re it!” she shouts, slamming into Philip.

He turns to her, eyes wide, but she turns and runs. Straight into the Sister who was watching them earlier.

“Where were you?” she demands.

Kara swallows hard. “I got lost going to the bathroom,” she says, then bites her lip to make her eyes tear. “It’s so big! I couldn’t find my way out and--” she gasps, trying to sob, and the woman purses her lips.

“Your parents need to keep better track of their property,” she says, still annoyed.

“Oh, Kara just has a mom,” Galina says.

Kara turns a fierce glare on her.

“I see,” the Sister says sternly. “Well, go play.”

And they do, but as Kara runs she can feel the weight of the finger in her pocket.

 

  
*

  
After their recess, the Sister takes them on a tour of the public regions of the temple: the outermost crypt, where the martyrs are buried; the chapels with stained glass that’s been put in since the age of conflict ended; the luxurious outer chambers of the Oracle’s quarters. It’s not until they’re going in to dinner that Philip and Galina corner her.

“Well?” Galina demands. “Did you find them?”

Kara opens her mouth, then shrugs. “There wasn’t anything out there. He was probably just trying to scare you lot into following the rules.”

Philip rolls his eyes. “I bet you just ran the minute you got close. We know your mom thinks they’re all big and _scary_.”

“Frak you!” Kara snarls, and at that moment her mother’s hand settles firmly around the back of her neck. Kara freezes in terror.

“Go to dinner,” Socrata growls at the other children.

“Bye, Kara,” Galina coos, and they go into dinner.

Kara doesn’t even have time to flinch before a slap catches the back of her head, bringing tears to her eyes.

“How dare you!” Socrata bursts out. “My daughter, swearing in the home of the Gods!” She lands a few more slaps around Kara’s head and shoulders as Kara tries to duck away from the blows, her ears ringing. Socrata snorts. “They weren’t wrong, were they? You needed to come here, need to learn the proper ways to show respect. Well, don’t worry, you will learn _that_ when we get home.”

Kara swallows hard, keeping her eyes down. “Yes, mama,” she whispers.

“Go back to our room and stay there,” her mother orders.

Kara’s head bobs up, as she looks toward the dining room. Her mother’s eyes are implacable. “Yes, mama,” she says again, and stumbles off, her head aching.

 

  
*

As she goes, Kara reaches into her pocket and strokes the metal fingertip. She remembers what it felt like when her own fingers were broken. She remembers what it felt like to fly. She wouldn’t mind being free herself.  



End file.
